Candlelight Carol
by Marie Noire
Summary: The sequel to "Who Is This Child" and a Christmas present for Phantom Phans everywhere! Elise agonizes over what she could possibly present Erik with for Christmas.


Candlelight Carol

By Marie Noire

**Author's Notes – The song _Candlelight Carol_  is copyright to John Rutter 1985… and yes, I know that Tchaikovsky's _Nutcracker_ was not composed until 1892… just call it artistic license.  Merry Christmas to all!**

Four years had passed since Christine Daae had fled the Paris Opera with the vicomte de Chagny… since the specter known only as the Opera Ghost had last haunted the credulous cast.  It had been four years since a little street urchin with no last name found herself on that same ghost's doorstep.  The city outside had changed very little, save for the burgeoning glow of electric lamps in replacement of the old gas ones.  Deep inside the Opera, it was a much different story.

Elise had, like certain rare blossoms that hibernate in the winter and flower brilliantly once under the sun's loving touch, grown and flourished under Erik's care.  The little girl's thin, malnourished form had filled out so that she no longer resembled an underfed sparrow.  Her once dirty and scraggly hair had thickened and grown into a riot of rich chestnut curls.  In short, she had transformed from a pathetic and frightened gutter mouse into a lively, if somewhat shy, and affectionate child.

To say that Erik cared for her was a gross understatement.  He lavished his wealth and knowledge upon her.  he bought her any pretty doll, fancy dress, or new book that caught her eye.  He had taught her to read and was currently delighting her young mind with rudimentary science and architecture.  And music… he taught her music as though it were a subject of royal and critical importance.  And although she showed no spectacular talent, he was satisfied with her passionate appreciation.  Besides, her child's voice had yet to grow… and her uncertain fingers moved over her violin's strings well enough for a girl her age.

But still, he kept himself carefully concealed from her, wary of frightening her.  His mask had remained safely in place since she had first entered his house, removed only when a locked door separated him from her.  More important than his face however, was his heart… for he guarded it well.  In caring for her, he had grown to love her as his own… but he had known far too much heartache to let himself be vulnerable again… even to a trusting child.

*****

The Paris nights had turned bitterly cold, the crystal clear skies brilliant with stars.  Erik walked briskly through the streets, his dark cloak blending with friendly shadows and his hat pulled low over his brow to conceal his mask from any passers.  Under his arm, he carried a package in new, brown paper… a new violin for Elise and a freshly printed copy of Fur Elise for her to play.  It was the very song that had drawn her through the sewers to his home and she still held a peculiar and unshakable devotion to the Beethoven piece.

Snow had not yet fallen over the city, but the promise of it was heavy in the air, filling it with a crisp scent.  Erik hastened his step towards the opera, eager to reach his home, his fire, and most of all, his little girl.  Music reached his ears through the chilled air, but it was not the usual sound of the Opera's repertoire that often wafted outside.  It was the simple sound of a church choir singing Christmas carols, a small basket in front of them with a few coins meant to be alms for the poor.  He hadn't even noted that the holiday season had arrived.  Needless to say, he was not a practicing Catholic by any means… or any other religion for that matter.  The onset of Christmastide had never been a marked occasion for him.

However, perhaps this particular year… he might make an exception.  Elise could use a small celebration of some kind… their lives had fallen into a routine that was bordering on boring… Christmas was just the thing.  He could take her to the Opera's annual Christmas gala and watch her little eyes sparkle with delight over the decorated foyer and festive music.  He could procure a Christmas fir… and a Yule log if she so desired.  Feasts were in order, if the Opera folk were to be emulated… he would need a goose or turkey.

His mind swimming with sudden ideas, he paused in front of the choir, listening intently to the hauntingly beautiful strains of _Silent Night_.  They stood in formation, each man dressed in matching top hats and capes, the women in crimson cloaks with hoods.  Although it was cold, each member sang joyously, a warm twinkle in each set of eyes.  Without thinking, he bent forward and dropped a small pouch of money into their basket.  His little Elise had been a homeless, hungry child once… he could do no less.

*****

At the Opera, the evening had reached the nightly lull between the end of rehearsal and the arrival of the cast for the evening performance.  Most of the cast took advantage of this calm to filter off into various cafes and pubs for a bit of supper, thus the Opera was almost entirely deserted.  Elise wandered about the foyer, skipping along to a music only she could hear.  Madame Giry watched her from the top of the _grand escalier_.  It had taken Erik only three months of inactivity to quiet the rampant gossip over the death of the Opera Ghost… and three months more to be safe before he re-introduced himself to the ballet mistress.  Giry had been surprised by his reappearance, but there had always been a vague alliance that bordered on friendship between her and the ghost.

The rest of the Opera slept peacefully in the supposed death of the Phantom and for Elise's safety, Erik wished it to remain so.  Only Madame Giry knew that he still lived and that now he had foundling to care for.  Whereas before she had served as his personal messenger and voice in the Opera… now she saw to Elise's needs while Erik ran errands or worked.

Giry found Elise to be shy and solemn, with that strange innocent wisdom that most children outgrew by the age of four.  She often lived in her own little universe, playing with imaginary friends, and rarely needed to be scolded for mischief.  She adored watching the ballet rats at practice; something Giry encouraged in the hopes of adding another dancer to the dwindling numbers.

Elise abandoned skipping in favor of mimicking the ballets, dancing on her toes, her arms held out gracefully.  Giry watched her with one appraising eye and one protectful one.  Perhaps she should speak to Erik about giving the child dancing lessons with the other girls.  After all, she needed some sort of contact with other children her age.  Sending her to school was out of the question, since legally she had no guardian and Erik enjoyed teaching her himself anyway.  But he couldn't say no to dance lessons.

"Elise." She called softly, without bothering to tap her cane, as she might have done to any of the little rats.

Elise turned and hurried up the steps, her tone respectful.  "Yes, Madame?"

"I think it is time for me to take you back down to the house… the cast will be returning from supper soon." She reminded her, taking her little hand.

Elise pouted, but nodded.  "I should do my French exercises… Erik said he wanted them done tonight."

Hand in hand, the ballet mistress and the eight-year-old walked down through the cellars, down to the Opera Ghost's lair.  Elise knew the way well enough by now, but neither adult wanted to risk her straying from the safe paths and accidentally finding one of Erik's traps instead.  Once inside the house, Giry stirred up the banking fire while Elise seated herself at the table with her French book and a few sheets of paper.  Erik's cat appeared, as was her habit, and made a nuisance of herself by thoroughly investigating Elise's book and papers.  Elise giggled and scolded the cat gently when she all but stuck her little face in a glass of milk.

"What will you and Erik be doing for Christmas, Elise?" Giry asked.

Elise looked up with a curious expression.  "I don't know.  How long is it until Christmas?  Will there be a gala again?"

Giry nodded.  "Of course.  Perhaps if you ask Erik nicely, he will take you."

Elise returned her gaze to her book, her eyes downcast.  "I don't know.  Erik doesn't like holidays… I don't want to m

make him mad at me."

"There's no harm in asking, little one." Giry suggested.  "Seems to me that there's nothing in the world he wouldn't do for you.  Ask him and you will see."

"You think he'd let me?" she asked hopefully.  "I can hear the music most times down here… but I want to _see_ everything too.  I read about Christmas in books… like _Christmas Carol_?  It sounds like fun… I hope Erik thinks so too."

"You never know… perhaps he'll surprise you."

*****

Erik headed through the lesser-used corridors of the Opera late that night, watching as carefully as any administrator as the stage hands and other worker busied themselves with decorating the foyer and other public areas with long ropes of holly, wreaths of pine, and red and gold ribbons.  The smell of the pine filled the air, accompanied with the more subtle scents of roasting chestnuts and herbs that had been sprinkled over every fireplace.  Elise had already fallen asleep by the time he had made it home and Madame Giry had greeted him with a question he had not expected.

Let Elise have dancing lessons?  The thought had not crossed his mind.  But as he watched her sleep, knowing that she loved to dance and knowing that it was possible that she might inadvertently give him away to a gossipy ballet rat… not to mention the fact that she may possibly come to realize exactly how much she was missing in the world above.  What could he do?  Keep her locked away with him for all eternity?  He was not foolish enough to try that again, no matter how much noise his paranoia raised.  If he loved her… he had to learn to let her explore and experience.  He would have to trust her and hope.

Trust and hope were very nearly alien concepts to him.

He sighed and retraced his steps back down to the house on the lake.  His home had changed since Elise's arrival.  He no longer let the cool dampness of the cellars seep into the air and kept every fireplace well stoked with dancing flames.  Dust never had the chance to settle on his bookshelves or other surfaces, since he found that Elise was mildly allergic to it.  Ayesha was finally not the only one who reminded him that it was suppertime.  And while he still composed his beloved music with an intense passion, he never worked obsessively for days on end without eating or sleeping, as he did before.  In all honesty, he was quite pleased that he had a small child to remind him that there was always time after sleeping to finish his work.  Elise had affected not only the warm transformation of his home… but his improved health as well.  Better eating and sleeping habits had lessened the stress on Erik's once-ailing heart… he was a little less inclined towards mercurial outbursts of temper.

With such a breath of welcome change into his life… how could he deny this sweet little girl anything?

The drawing room was dim, lit only by the fire, which sent waving shadows over the walls.  Erik removed and hung up his cloak and headed straight for Elise's room, opening the door silently and slipping inside.  Elise was cuddled under the blanket, her own fire shining a brilliant orange-red on her chestnut curls.  One had rested near her mouth… a reflexive position left over from her early habit of sucking her thumb, her dark lashes settled on her rosy cheeks.

Erik felt his heart melting once more as he looked down on her.  This child was his… no matter what any law or Mother Nature had to say to the contrary.  Taking her in from the dirty streets and choosing to protect her made him more her father than whoever sired her was.  Granted, he had no clue as to the child's true parentage… but he had already composed a likely one in his head.  Her father mostly had abandoned the mother, who had either consequently died from some poverty-induced disease or abandoned her child out of despair.  Either way, both parents had left their child in Fate's often cruel hands… but Her hands had softened and led her to the door of a man who would never see her harmed.  A man who, instead of taking his own life as he had originally planned… had found new inspiration in a child, and in that a will to live beyond his previous suffering.  Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Erik had rebuilt himself from the twisted and hideous shell that Christine had left behind… all because of a little girl.

Dance lessons.  How innocuous were dance lessons compared to what she had given him already?

If dance lessons were what she wanted, then dance lessons she would have.      

*****

Christmas was drawing closer, close enough that there was a continual titter among the _corps de ballet that even the sound of Madame Giry's cane could not quell entirely.  Elise laced up her shoes quickly while the mistress worked with some of the older girls.  As she finished, she caught a quiet conversation next to her._

"What are you getting for Christmas, Yvonne?"

"A new dress I think… and a doll… Papa always buys me a new doll every Christmas.  Oh I hope I can finish the coverlet in time… Mama's been so busy lately and I want to surprise her."

"My mother is getting me new slippers, I know… these are too small.  And I'm sewing up a little rag-doll for the new baby.  I might do a painting for my papa… with the paints he gave me last Christmas."

"Oh I hope I get the wrap I wanted!"

"Mama's finally said that I can help with Christmas dinner instead of watching over my brothers and sisters!  I can't wait to learn how she makes the pudding!"

"Papa can't wait to play carols on the new piano… he's been tuning it practically every day."

"Excuse me?" Elise asked before she could stop herself.  The three girls turned to look at her with an air of friendly surprise.  Since joining the ballet classes, Elise never spoke unless spoken to and even then, she was so quiet that the other girls simply ignored her.  Now she had their full attention.

"Elise… what are you getting for Christmas?" Jeanette asked.

"I don't know… I've already gotten a few new dresses… and dolls.  Maybe my… my Papa… will give me some new books for Christmas.  Or some music…"

"Books?  For Christmas?  What kind of books?" Helene repeated.

"Story books, I guess… fairy tales… I have been wanting the new copy of _The Three Musketeers_ for him to read to me." Elise replied shyly, looking down with her cheeks reddening.

Jeanette took pity on her.  "Ah… those kinds of books… very nice.  Do you know what your mother will be getting you?"

"I don't have a mother…" Elise whispered.  "Just… my papa."

Papa… why had she never thought of him like that before.  He'd always been Erik to her… and even though she knew that Erik was not a blood relative… he was her father for all intents and purposes.  She clearly remembered wandering into the sewers on a frigid winter day and following the sound of a violin to his door.  If he had been any other adult, he would've thrown her back into the streets or let her ramble lost in the catacombs until she perished… but Erik had become her guardian angel rather than just another indifferent adult.  He took her him and cared for her as his own even though he had no idea who she was.

If he could serve as her guardian angel… surely that meant she could think of him as her Papa as well.

The girls meanwhile had lapsed into silence following Elise's last statement.

"Oh… it's all right.  I don't remember my mother at all." She assured them, conscious of the others' discomfort.  "I was just wondering… do any of you have any ideas… on what I can get for my Papa for Christmas?"

For an hour the four girls discussed possible presents for Elise's father… everything from a new tie to good quality music paper to cooking all of Christmas dinner herself.  Elise liked a few of the ideas… but nothing seemed perfect.  Her first present to Erik as her Papa would have to be special.  It took Madame Giry's cane three bangs to succeed in getting the girls' attentions. 

After the lessons was over, an embarrassed Elise hastily changed into her street clothes, hoping to get down to where Erik would meet her before Madame Giry could scold her for not paying attention.  No such luck, the stern ballet mistress was waiting for her outside of the dressing room.

"Elise.  A moment?" she asked, taking her aside before Elise could answer yes or no.

"Madame… I apologize for losing my concentration, but-" she began.

"Never mind that, dear.  What were you talking to those girls about?" Giry asked, a worried expression on her face.

"Christmas, madame… I.." she drifted off suddenly, realizing why she had been so concerned.  "Oh!  No, madame!  I didn't say anything about Erik or where we lived.  I just asked them for some helping in deciding what to get him for Christmas.  Nothing for them to gossip about, honest."

Giry sighed, a smile settling on her lips.  "I'm sorry, my dear… I know you mean well… just a moment of panic.  As for a Christmas present for Erik… he'll enjoy whatever you choose to give him, so I wouldn't worry overly much about it."

"But I want it to be special, madame… all of the other girls have such perfect things picked out for their papas…" Elise sighed wistfully.  "Do you have any ideas?"

Giry seemed taken aback by the question.  "Well, I… never knew Erik even celebrated Christmas.  I'm afraid I won't be much help, dear.  Keep looking… you'll find something."

*****

_How do you capture the wind on the water?_

_How do you count all the stars in the sky?_

_How can you measure the love of the Master?_

_Or how can you write down a baby's first cry?_

_Candlelight, angel light_

_Firelight and starglow_

_Shine on His cradle 'til breaking of dawn_

_Gloria, Gloria in excelsis Deo_

_Angels are singing_

_The Christ child is born_

Elise bit her lip in concentration as she drew the bow over her violin's strings in a gentle rhythm, the simple melody floating about the room softly.  She loosened her white-knuckled grip on the bow and sighed… she had to, just had to get this song right before Christmas Eve!  

After days of wracking her brain and asking anyone who cared to listen to her problem, she had finally settled on an idea for Erik's present.  Madame Giry had been of particular help in her endeavor… as had her daughter, Meg, who had stayed with Elise well after dance rehearsals were over.  As far as Elise could tell, Erik had no inkling of her plans… he seemed to think that her increased absence was due to her desire to spend time with her newfound Opera friends.

Elise disliked letting Erik think that she was somehow forsaking him, even though her time was devoted to towards the gift that she hoped would tell him how much she loved him.  Her Papa… not by blood… but because he was the only soul on earth who cared enough about a dirty street-child to take her in and care for her.  In truth, Erik deserved her love more than her birth parents did… for he had given her everything while they had abandoned her to the streets.

*****

Erik swung his cloak over his shoulders, passing an absent-minded hand over Ayesha's arched back.  She half meowed half purred at him in response and jumped down from the sofa's back, tossing her head prettily so that the bell Elise had attached to her collar jingled merrily.  Although the bell diminished her hunting abilities to some extent, Ayesha seemed to enjoy the tingling accessory greatly since Elise had given it to her that morning.

Christmas Eve… and the Opera's gala was to start in a few hours.  Erik glanced at the clock on his mantle and sighed.  What was taking Elise so long?  She had shut herself up in her room over an hour ago and had promised to emerge soon when he had knocked on the door in concern.  

"Elise.  Are you nearly ready?  We will be late if we do not head up soon." He called after a moment's hesitation.

"Coming!" she called from behind the door and Erik was pleased when he heard the door open at last.  Elise entered the parlor and Erik couldn't help but smile at her.  She wore the new dress he had bought her some weeks ago, a luxurious thing of crimson velvet and snow-white lace.  She had forgone the twin tails she usually put her hair into, preferring to twist it up in a more sophisticated style that looked suspiciously like something Madame Giry might had taught her.    He swallowed, this was no longer the little girl he had brought into his house four years ago… she looked older than her ten years, and he caught a glimpse of the young woman she was destined to become one day.  Refined, heart-rendingly lovely, slender and willowy… like an errant woodland nymph with wide eyes and an eager smile… a young woman who, much sooner than he had ever expected, would not need him anymore.  The thought sobered him… in the four short years since he had taken her in, he had grown familiar with having his child… the sudden realization that she would someday leave him, most likely marry some young man, and forget about the man who had loved her first.

His heart twisted within his chest, sending a painful jolt through his body.  Elise frowned at his expression, the sudden lack of light in his eyes.  "Erik?  Are you all right?  I don't look bad, do I?"

He took a deep breath.  "No… not at all, my dear… quite the contrary.  You look beautiful, Elise.  Shall we head up to Box Five?  The orchestra should be warming up soon."

He offered his hand, forcing a smile.  It was Christmas… and he would not burden his little foundling's holiday with his worries for the entire world.

*****

Elise tried desperately to sit still through the first section of the Opera's annual Christmas gala; a series of light-hearted, religious, and traditional Christmas pieces from the Opera's orchestra.  Under normal circumstances, she would've been hard-pressed to tear her attention away from the stage area… but on this night her eyes wandered all over the auditorium, from the people to the chandelier to the boxes across the way where the managers sat to the currently still stage.  Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest like a war drum her legs starting to shake.  She took a few deep breaths as the _corps de ballet_ took the stage and performed a segment of dance from a new ballet from Russian composer Tchaikovsky… something about sugar plum fairies or the like.  She would have to make a discreet exit soon in order to get Erik's present ready.

She placed a hand on his sleeve gently.  "Erik… I'll be right back… I have to go… ahem… take care of something."

He nodded at her, no doubt assuming that her delicate phrasing hinted at the need for the water closet.  "Don't be long, my dear… the singers will be performing for us soon."

Elise nodded and rose from her seat, exiting the box as quickly as prudence would allow.  She met Madame Giry backstage, while the dancers were still performing, Meg currently delighting the audience at center stage.  Giry motioned for the little girl not to speak and handed her the shining violin case that Elise had secreted backstage that morning during rehearsals.  With a jerk of her head, Giry indicated a spot for Elise to sit and wait while she quietly made sure the violin was still in tune.  Elise tried to still the fluttery beating of her heart, which was now behaving like a wild bird suddenly caged.

*****

Erik clapped as the dancers curtsied for the audience, his mind twirling around the melodies of Tchaikovsky… this ballet of his was most likely pure drivel meant only to entertain the masses and keep his coffer comfortably full… but there was still potential in his music.  He noted to himself that he should attempt to find more serious work from this particular composer to look over.   He frowned when he noticed that Elise had not returned from the powder room yet.  If she was gone much longer, she would miss the first carol from the singers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to wish you all a Happy Christmas on behalf of the Opera Populaire, its patrons and artists." Firmin addressed the audience somewhat less stiffly than usual.  "I know you are all awaiting the main entertainment of our celebration, the Opera's diva La Madeliena di Palazo.  But first I would like to present a special performance by one of our youngest members."

Erik sat forward… this wasn't listed in the program.  A last minute adjustment?  

"It seems one of our little ballet dancers has an additional musical talent and it is my pleasure to introduce her to you now.  Ladies and Gentlemen… Miss Elise Noir."

_Elise?_ Erik nearly slipped out of his chair he sat upright so quickly.  What was she doing?

Elise shyly took center stage, smiling briefly at Firmin, the violin he had bought her a few weeks ago shaking in her hands.  She faced the audience and Erik was filled with terror on behalf of his child… she was so frightened before so many people, so pale he feared she might faint.  But she took a visible breath and stepped forward, closer to the edge of the stage.  The audience was oddly silent, intrigued by this pint-sized addition to the Christmas gala.

"Ladies and gentlemen… I wish you all a merry Christmas.  And I would also like to dedicate this song to my Papa, it is because of him that I have been privileged enough to learn and love music." Her eyes flicked up to Box Five cautiously, leaving no doubt in Erik's mind as to who she was speaking of.

Papa… she had called him her Papa.  Tears threatened in his eyes as Elise raised the violin to her chin and drew the bow across the strings just as he had taught her to.  His little girl… _his_ little girl was performing on the stage in front of all of Paris… but only for him.  He did not recognize the melody, but it was a gentle and soothing one, that suited her skills perfectly, being neither fast nor difficult.  He found himself humming it almost inaudibly as it was repeated.

Soon, the orchestra picked up her song as well and the sound of her solo violin was embraced by stronger instruments.  Elise lowered it slowly, adjusting her position from one preferable for playing to one more appropriate for singing.

_Shepherds and wise men will kneel and adore Him_

_Seraphim 'round him their vigil will keep_

_Nations proclaim him their Lord and their Savior_

_But Mary will hold Him and sing Him to sleep_

_Candlelight, angel light_

_Firelight and star glow_

_Shine on His cradle 'til breaking of dawn_

_Gloria Gloria in excelsis Deo_

_Angels are singing_

_The Christ child is born_

_Find Him at Bethlehem laid in a manger_

_Christ our Redeemer asleep on the hay_

_Godhead incarnate and hope of salvation_

_A child with His mother that first Christmas Day_

_Candlelight, angel light_

_Firelight and star glow_

_Shine on His cradle 'til breaking of dawn_

_Gloria Gloria in excelsis Deo_

_Angels are singing_

_The Christ child is born_

_Angels are singing_

_The Christ child is born_

He was trembling all over, his heart bursting with love for his child as she bashfully curtsied for the audience as they clapped eagerly for the courageous little girl.  Musically, she was not spectacular by any means, her voice clear but weak from only light training… her violin skills slightly above average for her age… but to Erik, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his fifty-odd years of life.  The voice of his daughter singing only for him warmed him as no fire, nor anger, nor innocent look from Christine ever had.  At last his prayers had been answered, albeit not in the way he had expected.  Someone… a beautiful girl… trusted him, cared for him, sang for him… _loved_ him.  At that very moment, every wall he had ever erected around his heart crumbled like ancient masonry… he knew, just _knew_ that even if Elise someday caught him without his mask or somehow witnessed his awesome temper… she would still love him.  He was her Papa… she was his daughter… that was the only truth he needed.

Ten minutes of eternity later, Elise attempted to slip back into her seat next to him, her face flaming.  He grasped her wrist gently, turning his eyes to her.  "My child…" he whispered, his voice shaking.

"Did I… do well?  It was not my best, I know… but I tried so hard, I did." She murmured in an undertone.

Without another word, he pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly.  "It was sublime, my child… beautiful… you have no idea how much it means to me."

Her arms wrapped eagerly around his neck.  "Merry Christmas, Papa… I love you."

He sighed, the tears he had been holding back breaking through at last.  "As I love you, Elise… merry Christmas."


End file.
